FAR GONE

Chapter 5

“What… what are you talking about, Liam?” Aria asked, her eyes wide with shock. Her hand trembled as it reached toward him, but she stopped halfway, afraid to touch him and be pushed away again. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m your mother.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, raw and pleading.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the sight of her. I couldn’t let her crumble alone. Stepping closer, I added, steady but heavy, “She’s right. Aria is your mother… and I’m your father. Liam, we’re not lying to you.”

But his eyes—cold, uncertain, almost frightened—cut through me sharper than any blade.

He shook his head violently, his lips curling in anger. “No. I don’t know you. I don’t know her. And my name is not Liam. Don’t… don’t call me that!”

Aria staggered back, as if struck. Her hand flew to her mouth, and a broken sob escaped. I saw her shoulders shake, her tears spilling freely, and for the first time in years, I felt completely powerless. She had carried him for nine months, raised him until fate tore us apart… and now he looked at her as if she were a stranger.

I bent low, bringing myself level with his gaze, ignoring the rejection burning in my chest. “Listen to me, son. Don’t shut me out,” I whispered, my voice rough. “I am your father. I would never lie to you. You had an accident, Liam… that’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been in the hospital. Do you understand?”

His breathing quickened, defiant still. “I don’t believe you!” he snapped. “I don’t believe either of you!”

He tried to say more, but suddenly his words broke off. His hands shot up to his head, clutching tightly as though his skull were being crushed from the inside. His face twisted in agony, and a strangled cry tore out of him.

“Liam!” I shouted, rushing forward. My heart lurched into my throat. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s happening!”

But he couldn’t answer. He writhed, his fingers digging into his hair, his whole body trembling. My gut turned to ice as realization hit me—this wasn’t just anger, something was terribly wrong with his head.

I turned sharply to Aria, my voice almost a roar. “Get the doctor! Now!”

Aria bolted out, her sobs swallowed by panic. I caught Liam before he could fall from the bed, holding him tight against me. His weight felt too light, too fragile. “Hold on, son. Please, hold on,” I whispered desperately, pressing my forehead against his, helpless to ease the pain that tore through him.

Moments later the door burst open. Aria returned, breathless, with a doctor and two nurses at her heels. They swarmed around us instantly, the doctor barking orders while the nurses rushed to stabilize him. Machines beeped wildly, and wires tangled as they tried to get him under control.

“Step back, sir!” one nurse commanded sharply.

I hesitated, refusing to let go, but the doctor shot me a firm look. “We need space. Let us work!”

Aria and I were both pulled away gently but forcefully. I resisted, my fists clenching, but Aria’s hand found mine, squeezing as tears streamed down her cheeks. The nurses guided us out, their movements brisk and unyielding.

And then—slam.

The door closed in our faces, shutting us out.

Through the small glass window, I could still see flashes of movement: hands pressing, wires adjusting, the doctor leaning over Liam. His cries had faded into muffled gasps, and each sound was a knife twisting deeper inside me.

I pressed my palm against the cold door, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. My son was in there, fighting for his life again, and I was powerless.

Beside me, Aria collapsed into a chair, her sobs breaking the sterile silence of the hallway.

And all I could do was stand there—helpless, furious, terrified—while strangers fought to pull my boy back from the edge.

The hours bled into one another, each second dragging like a weight against my chest. Aria’s hands trembled as they clutched mine, her face pale and weary as we sat outside the room where they worked on Liam. I couldn’t tell whose heartbeat I heard louder—hers or mine.

Finally, the door cracked open. The doctor stepped out, tugging off his gloves, his expression caught between calm professionalism and the heaviness of bad news.

“It’s complications after surgery,” he said at last, his voice even but firm, as though he had rehearsed those words many times before.

Aria immediately straightened, her eyes widening. “Complications?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Doctor, he—he can’t recognize me. He looked at me like I was a stranger. He doesn’t even know his own name.”

Her words trembled as if each one cut her deeper. Tears glossed her eyes as she clutched her chest. “What is happening to my son?” she asked, her voice shattering with the weight of a mother’s desperation.

The doctor took a slow breath, then gave a practiced nod. “It might be shock,” he explained softly. “Patients in Liam’s condition sometimes go into shock like this. It can distort memory, identity… even recognition. But don’t worry. We’ll monitor him. When he wakes again, we’ll run a new CT scan to determine what’s going on inside his head.”

The way he spoke—steady, measured—was meant to soothe, but I could see Aria wasn’t soothed at all. She pressed her hands to her mouth, sobbing quietly. The doctor placed a hand briefly on my shoulder. “Stay strong for him. Both of you.” Then he excused himself, leaving us alone in the long, suffocating hallway.

I turned to Aria and pulled her into my arms. “Listen to me,” I whispered against her hair. “He’s still our son. This… this is temporary. You’ll see. He’ll remember us. He’ll come back to us.”

She shook her head against my chest, her sobs muffled. “But Kael… he didn’t even look at me as his mother. He pushed me away.”

I gritted my teeth, my throat burning, but I forced myself to sound steady for her sake. “Then we’ll fight for him, Aria. We’ll remind him who we are, even if it takes a lifetime.”

When the nurses finally let us back into the room, the lights were dimmed, and the machines hummed steadily beside Liam’s bed. Aria collapsed into the chair beside him, her hand instantly finding his, her head resting on the edge of the mattress. Within minutes, exhaustion took her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.

But me… I couldn’t sleep. I stood near the window, the city lights casting long shadows across the floor. My eyes never left Liam. Every rise and fall of his chest, every twitch of his fingers, I guarded like a soldier at post.

My son. My blood. Even if he couldn’t see me as his father, I would stand here until he did.